


Wind, Threads and Glances

by pssychotropical



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: AU: Superpowers, Long-Term Relationship, M/M, and angsty overall i'm guessing, and relationship problems galore, inconclusive ending too, supposedly Mark's sleepwalking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-29
Updated: 2019-08-29
Packaged: 2020-09-29 22:40:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20443739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pssychotropical/pseuds/pssychotropical
Summary: Mark is sleepwalking, or so he thinks, and it causes problems in his long-term relationship with Yukhei.





	Wind, Threads and Glances

It's four am and Yukhei's driving his car through a forest, wearing only his pyjamas and a winter jacket thrown on top, barefoot inside his winter boots. It feels like he's still sleeping. Four am, him inside the car, pyjamas and a winter jacket, driving through the forest almost twenty kilometers away from home and listening to a muted top one hundred of all time.

It must be a dream.

But it's just one night among many others where he slept so lightly like he hasn't slept at all and then was woken up by a phone call from an unknown number. Soon it'll be another morning where he's going to feel exhausted, eyes closing and pupils unable to focus his vision on a single document on his desk. His co-workers in the office are going to ask if he's okay, another day in a row where he'll cause a stir among them, draw worried stares and hear murmurs behind his back. Maybe he's getting paranoid.

He double checks if it's the right road he's driving. The sign says yes; it's the neighbouring county and he's already passed two villages on his way. Looking at the dark road shining wet in the headlights, enclosed by the trees from both sides and with the moon hanging low from the sky like a light bulb, he's wondering how it's even possible to walk there on foot.

Finally, he sees the red light. Shining on and off, it's a police car parked by the road, next to it a blue pickup truck. He can distinguish a few silhouettes grouped together each time the red light shines on. He parks by the police car. It's cold. Only as he opens the door does he realise he's been gripping the steering wheel so tight his fingers have gone numb. He walks out and immediately steps into a puddle. It's still drizzling.

Mark's seated in the open door of the police car's back seat, his skinny legs hanging out, bare feet hovering over the wet concrete, body covered with a blanket.

"Mr Wong Yukhei?" It's one of the two policemen. The same procedure as usual. Yukhei shows them his identification paper, they ask if Mark and him are partners, he confirms, they ask how often the sleepwalking happens, Yukhei says three times a week on average. There's not a moment of hesitation between the questions being asked and his responses. He recites them like it's a scenario he's learnt by heart.

He turns to Mark at last. Again, it's the same words he always opens with, "Babe, you okay?" He's standing in front of Mark but Mark isn't looking up at him. He has a bitter smile on his blue lips.

"I've already told them I'm a regular," he jokes. Yukhei isn't smiling back.

One of the policemen looks over the documents in his hands. "He couldn't remember his name nor his address for the first ten minutes we talked to him."

The old man from the pickup truck, today's great hero, he nods his head approvingly and chimes into the conversation. His voice sounds emotional. "I couldn't wake him up at first," he tells Yukhei. He continues speaking but Yukhei can't hear much, like it's a voice coming from behind a few walls, muffled and distant.

The policeman asks if any further assistance is needed and Yukhei says no. The policeman turns to Mark, "Can we leave you with him?" like Yukhei isn't right beside them.

Mark stands up, nodding his head yes. He has mud between his toes.

The drizzle keeps dripping down the sky and Yukhei's hair is now just as wet and glued to his forehead as Mark's. He feels like shit. When the policemen depart and the man from the pickup truck gets back into it, wishing Mark all the best, they're finally alone. The police car headlights blind them for a moment as they walk.

"I got you some clothes."

Mark says thanks. Yukhei can tell he's embarrassed. No matter how many times they've reenacted this exact same scene, he's always embarrassed. Still barefoot, he gets into the passenger's seat with the face of a teenager caught drunk by his parent at a friend's party he wasn't allowed to go to. He puts the clothes on and Yukhei closes the door, fastens his seat belt.

"You have your keys with you?" he asks.

Marks looks at him big-eyed, not fully understanding. His wet hair is now sticking on the sides of his head after pulling the sweater on. "Why?"

"You closed the door," Yukhei explains and starts the engine.

"I did?"

"It was closed when I woke up." As the car drives onto the road and turns around, there's no sign of the police car nor of the pickup truck, as if they dissipated into the night's fog. "I don't know how long ago you must have left. We're almost half an hour from home."

For a moment, they're silent and only the top one hundred of all time can be heard murmuring out of the radio. A sigh escapes Yukhei's mouth and he immediately regrets it. It sounds like he's annoyed. "I'm sorry."

Mark replies just as fast, "No. I'm sorry. For waking you up. It's the fourth time this week."

"That's what I'm here for."

"You're not." Mark props his elbow against the door of the car. He's looking Yukhei in the face, presumably because he knows Yukhei isn't going to look back. A hare runs across the road. "You're doing more than you should."

It must be the irritation caused by sleep deprivation that has Yukhei respond with, "What was I supposed to do? Ignore the phone call and go back to sleep?" They both know that it sounds ridiculous. Yukhei's always there to bring Mark back home.

"I'm sure the policemen wouldn't mind driving me home like they did it last time."

Last time. And a few times before that. It happens so often Yukhei has already lost count. Mark delivered by a police car at three am, brought home by a stranger who noticed him sleepwalk down the street in front of their house. Yukhei waking up to take a leak and seeing that there's an empty space beside him in their bed.

He shakes his head. "Let's talk about something else."

But Mark doesn't say anything. They both need sleep. In the suffocating silence that's filling the car, Yukhei reaches for the radio with one hand and turns up the volume.

The following day, when Yukhei takes a seat at their usual table in the pizza parlour, there are no real greetings exchanged. Kun welcomes him by saying that he looks like shit and Yukhei can't disagree. He picks up the menu and starts looking for the food to order but what he's actually doing is hiding half of his face away from the awaiting stare of his two friends.

Kun's the one to break the silence, he usually does. "So how did it go?" he asks.

Yukhei's eyes slide down the list of pizza toppings. "How did what go?" he pretends not to know.

Kun and Taeil sigh in more or less the same moment. Yukhei can't really blame them. It's easier to make logical decisions when you're not the person with a muddled mind who hasn't slept well for the last couple of months.

"I'm asking if you finally broke up."

Now that the word has been pronounced, the spell is broken. Yukhei puts the menu down and rubs his face with one hand. There's a longer pause in which he's breathing shallowly. "We've had a rough night," he starts and then it doesn't require him to continue.

"Fuck." Kun leans against the back of his chair, one arm folded around it, the fingers of his other hand tapping the table anxiously. "You've been trying to break up with the guy three times already. A friendly reminder that it's you who told us that needs to take a break because this relationship is overwhelming you."

Yukhei runs his hand through his hair and then puts it down onto the table, like he can't quite accept the fact that those are his exact words. "Listen. I'm not overwhelmed, I'm just--"

"Nobody blames you. We don't blame you." Kun looks at Taeil and Taeil nods his head. Yukhei suspects they've had a rehearsal before his arrival.

Taeil continues Kun's point, "You didn't know it would look like this when you first met him. You shouldn't feel obliged to continue this."

A thought crosses Yukhei's mind that perhaps he could have expected what dating Mark would be like.

How he and Mark first met was Yukhei found the man's wallet left in the park. He called the phone number he's found inside and they met the following day. Yukhei couldn't know that the man to show up would be so much more handsome than his identity card's photograph. When Yukhei asked how it happened that he had lost the wallet, holding it with one hand before Mark's face but not intending to give it to him so quickly, the air sparkled with sexual attraction. Mark had this nasal, raspy voice. He said, "Sometimes I sleepwalk at nights." And at that time in the past, Yukhei found it the most attractive thing on the planet.

Kun snaps his fingers in front of Yukhei's face. "Stop falling asleep. This is what we're talking about. We're fucking worried about you, man. You're starting to disappear."

Yukhei shakes his head, in one moment coming back to the pizzeria. He blinks his eyes, somehow blinded by the table lamp.

"You fell asleep at work and your boss threatened he would sack you." It's the same thing Kun brings up every time they have this conversation. "And what did Mark do? He refused to take the damn pills."

"He says they make him feel nauseated."

"I'm fucking nauseated right now."

"And they didn't help with the night trips."

It looks like the waitress is about to stop by their table but then changes her route. Taeil sighs watching her go to the table nearby instead. Kun keeps talking. "Yeah, because Mark certainly knows better than his own damn psychologist."

"Sleep specialist," Yukhei corrects. "Listen--"

"He's a freak."

Yukhei feels his body grow cold. Taeil makes a sound with his tongue and then says, "Hey, easy, man."

Kun throws him a quick glance. "Who are we kidding?" Eyes back to Yukhei, he leans against the table. "He sleepwalks, he has hallucinations and nightmares. He keeps you awake every night. You've already told us all of that, so stop acting like we don't know the whole picture."

Yukhei clears his throat. It's another thing he could disagree about. He's never mentioned to them the details of Mark's hallucinations because he prefers keeping those private.

Every time he talks about Mark to his friends, it feels like he's doing something wrong and he's deeply ashamed of it.

He's still thinking about what he's been told by Kun as he gets back home, and getting back home, he keeps silent, slows down, always assuming that Mark might be having his day time nap. The specialist told them that naps may decrease deep sleep and deep sleep is when Mark's sleepwalking can be triggered.

As if he's inside an old silent film, he takes off his leather jacket and shoes, puts his keys on the hallway table, every movement exaggerated and distorted as he tries to prevent the natural sounds accompanying them from being made. He's quick to learn that it's unnecessary.

"I'm not sleeping," comes Mark's voice from the bedroom. Yukhei sighs, then enters the room in his normal gait and stops in the doorway, one hand against it. Mark's lying on his back and staring at the ceiling. "I don't even know if I really want to. I'm starting to believe I won't ever wake up in bed again."

When Mark turns his head towards the door, his black hair spilling over the white lining underneath him, Yukhei takes a deep breath. "At least you should try. You know I want you to sleep like normal people." He immediately regrets the word choice.

Mark rolls his eyes. "Yeah, I want to have more in common with normal people too."

"Mark."

"So how was the dinner? Did you have fun with your boys?" He sits up and motions with one hand for Yukhei to join him. Yukhei's steps make the wooden floor creak.

"It was fine." He knows it's a subject Mark chose so that they don't talk about what they always talk about. Fighting with himself, he furrows his eyebrows. He sits on the edge of the bed. "Not much to say."

"Right." A longer silence. Mark's hand finds its way to Yukhei's and their fingers intertwine, noticeably different in size. Yukhei moves closer, Mark leans against him, Yukhei's arm folds around him, sweeping him closer. "I'm really lucky to have you, you know?"

He's waiting for Yukhei's response, looking at him through his eyelashes, and all Yukhei can think of in this exact moment in time is, "Do you have any guesses who's the guy in your dreams?"

Mark chuckles and it's feigned amusement. "Which one?"

Yukhei's reluctant to reply, like it's something awkward to bring up. They never talk about Mark's dreams much, other than Mark mentioning their details in the morning while coming into the kitchen and picking up Yukhei's toast from the toaster, reclaiming the ownership. Mark treats it like funny anecdotes. "You know..."

"The one with a scar?" Mark prompts usefully. His two fingers walk down Yukhei's bare arm. "You always speak about him like we're in this film we've watched last week. You know, like I'm dead and it's the guy I've been murdered by and you're trying to figure out who that is without telling me that I'm dead--"

"I'm being serious."

Mark shrugs his shoulders. "I must have made him up. That's why he's in my dreams and, you know, isn't real." Yukhei falls silent with the unsatisfied expression on his face. "Okay. Let's put everything on a pause today. Please?"

"A pause?"

Still embraced by Yukhei's arms, Mark stirs, craning his neck. His big, boyish eyes keep reaching up Yukhei's face. "Let's just... forget that I'm messing up our relationship. Let's talk about something fun."

It doesn't come immediately but the corners of Yukhei's lips eventually lift into a smile. This is the Mark he likes the best, spontaneously fun. "And what would that be?"

"Like how nice you smell today."

"Fair enough." Lucas closes his eyes and places his chin against Mark's shoulder. The smile deepens and his mouth displays the whole set of his perfectly white teeth. "Go on."

At the beginning of their relationship, Mark would sleepwalk only once or twice a month and never outside of the house.

It was Yukhei who proposed consulting a specialist.

During their first visit, where Yukhei had to accompany Mark, otherwise Mark wouldn't go at all, the doctor called it a REM sleep behaviour disorder and while explaining the condition he used many technical terms, most of which Yukhei hadn't ever heard before. The room was small, smelt of detergents, and Yukhei scratched his chest, quickly bored and not knowing what else to do with his hands.

He realised that somehow in the span of just a few months, a one time fuck with a mysterious guy who lost his wallet turned into a serious relationship. And he didn't know how it made him feel.

The sleep specialist presented the list of potential underlying health issues that could be troubling Mark and at some point during the discussion of Mark's medical record, Yukhei learnt that Mark had no living relatives. Which piece of information caught him off-guard.

They were already walking down the hallway, Mark two steps ahead, when Yukhei cleared his throat and asked, "Why didn't I know that you're an orphan?" He intended for the question to sound casual but, as it was usually the case, it came out awkward and conspicuous.

Mark waved with the prescription in his left hand. The other one was stuffed in the back pocket of his jeans. "I didn't know we were at this stage in our relationship, Mr Wong."

Yukhei frowned. "What stage?"

"You worrying about my health, fixing me a specialist and then asking about my family." Mark spoke with amusement in his voice, which Yukhei didn't necessarily share. "But to answer your question, it's just a general rule I don't go around telling everyone I'm an orphan. You know. It kind of sucks."

Yukhei crossed his arms on his chest, speeding up his steps. "I'm not everyone. We've just moved in together."

An old lady passed them by in the hallway, throwing Yukhei an annoyed glance. Mark chuckled. "You said it's because you couldn't find any place better."

"Are you trying to tell me you're waiting for me to move out?"

"I'm just pointing out that you got very serious lately. That's not required. I'm fine."

Yukhei could sense his ears growing hot. The things Mark had just announced to him and the manner in which he chose to do so. Suggesting that Yukhei was the overly protective one, the demanding partner. He slowed down his steps, just a little, in need of being invisible to Mark's eyes at least for a few seconds.

The same pizza parlour, same usual suspects and it starts off the same way too.

In place of a hello, Kun asks whether Yukhei finalised his relationship with Mark, like it's a process similar to cancelling a newspaper subscription. He sits down and throws his jacket onto the back of his chair, in sync with Yukhei instinctively picking up the menu, and then pretends that it's a fantastic coincidence how just the other day he's read an article about some guy who's killed his wife and step-mother while sleepwalking. Taeil comments that it's in poor taste and for a longer while neither of the three says anything.

It's a bigger event this time around, some friends of Kun's are supposed to come too, and that chick Kun has had his eyes on for a while. Yukhei doesn't know who she is because it seems like they always talk only about Mark.

"Unlike you," Kun says to Yukhei, continuing the subject of the woman that's about to show up, "I prefer to first make sure that I don't deal with a human monster who's about to suck all the life energy out of my body."

Taeil rolls his eyes. "We just hate seeing you looking so miserable," he tells Yukhei, translating. Same thing as usual.

Yukhei puts his phone down, which he's been looking at to make sure he hasn't missed a call from Mark. It's become a reflex at this point. "I'm not miserable."

"Just for one night," Taeil continues, "try to relax."

Yukhei slips the phone back into the pocket of his jeans. Then crosses his arms. It's a pose that's in fact the exact opposite of relaxed, but he's going to alter it as soon as the remaining guests arrive, the blond chick among them. He's going to have fun, he's promised that to himself. Not to Kun, not to anyone else, just himself. He's going to talk about things that are fun, and he'll do his best to look like the cool, fun guy that he remembers himself being, back before the lack of sleep started and the regular visits at the chemist's.

But it's not even two hours into the meeting when he gets a call. And it's from Mark.

Picking up the phone, he automatically stands up, excuses himself and directs his steps away from the table. While departing, he's escorted by Kun's judging stare. Someone leans in to ask him a question while pointing at Yukhei.

"Babe, what's up?" he goes, realising just how much he actually needed this conversation to happen, as if he's been holding his breath up until now.

Mark's voice over the phone sounds dead serious, stark contrast to the joyful laughter behind Yukhei's back. "I'm at a police station."

This one sentence alone has Yukhei reach to his pocket to feel whether he has his keys with him, ready to immediately jump into the car and drive wherever Mark asks him to be, forget the half a can of beer he's already drunk. Then he realises how crazy it all is. In one second, he's back to anxious, but truth be told, he's been anxious even before Mark's call.

"I'll be there in a minute," he spits out without thinking, all words bunched up together. Manoeuvring between the tables and almost bumping into the waitress, he can still hear the voices of his friends. "Tell me the exact address."

And there comes a surprise.

Mark says he's in a different city. He's in a city that's two hours of a drive away from theirs and it's physically impossible he could have sleepwalked there since when Yukhei left for the party. Yukhei's breathing stops for a second.

"You're not being serious."

Mark repeats the address. His voice is lowered, faltering and hoarse, and he keeps the phone very close to his mouth.

"Did you take our car?" Holding the phone between his shoulder and chin and putting on his leather jacket at the entrance to the pizza parlour, Yukhei tries to remember everything the sleep specialist said, anything that could be of use right now, more to himself rather than to Mark. "Did you drive while sleeping?" he asks, desperately looking for an explanation. Without even considering coming back to the table to excuse his sudden departure, he storms out into the street and the cold air slaps him in the face.

Over the phone, Mark's breathing grows uneven. "There was no car. I mean, I don't think there was any car..." There are background noises coming from where Mark is, a woman's voice asking if everything is okay and saying something else Yukhei can't hear and it angers him. "I was woken up by a police officer. She's with me right now and she thinks that I'm on drugs. I have no documents with me to prove my identity--"

"This is impossible," is all Yukhei can get out of his mouth, cutting Mark off, like it's enough information and Yukhei can't stand being told anything more. He's speed walking down the street, noting down all of Mark's belongings that he needs to take with him, wondering if it's the shock at the news or the alcohol that has made his body feel so unstable, more like he's floating, without feeling his muscles nor touching the pavement. He's holding the phone with his both hands and the wind of the night is running through his fringe. "This is just physically impossible that you got there in barely two hours--"

Words wring out of Mark's mouth, "Can you just fucking pick me up?" and his voice cracks midway through the sentence.

The following day, walking into the kitchen feels more like an entrance onto the stage, with reflectors lighting up his figure from above and a whole room of strangers staring at him and waiting for the words to be spoken out, only Mark doesn't know them because he's never read the script.

Yukhei looks up at him.

"Hi," Mark goes and clears his throat immediately after. He becomes aware of just how much he's trying to sound and look normal, like it's just another morning and nothing extremely frustrating and inexplicable has happened just the other day. One glance at the wall clock, two pm.

It took them almost the whole night to get back home, and you can tell by the look on Yukhei's face. He has his yesterday's t-shirt on. His greasy hair demands a shower. Instead of responding immediately, Yukhei takes a sip of his coffee. Every passing second makes Mark feel like he's running out of breath.

"Did you get any sleep?"

There we go.

Mark giggles in a way that's far from reassuring. "Not a single wink."

Yukhei nods his head.

The audience now watches Mark pour coffee and sugar into a mug and he can't seem to do even that without looking suspicious and guilty. His weak hands holding the electric kettle spill hot water onto the kitchen counter, and he reacts to it with another nervous chuckle.

Yukhei stands up, the chair screeches against the floor. He comes up to Mark and tries to hug him while standing behind. It's a little awkward, but generally seems to work. Yukhei has never had a problem handling Mark physically, their bodies so opposite to one another and yet fitting in like puzzles.

What Mark feels most stupid about, in the light of last night's events, or maybe last couple of weeks, is the dependence he's shown. Constantly calling Yukhei for help like a damsel in distress, the role he's always wanted to avoid playing. In his head, he tells himself that it's normal, something boyfriends do. He can count on Yukhei and Yukhei can come help him without asking questions.

Mark stirs the coffee. Yukhei props his chin against his shoulder and with one hand brushes Mark's hair behind his ear.

"You sleepwalked into an express," Yukhei mumbles then to Mark's head of black hair, like he's continuing a monologue from hours ago, trying to convince himself to a story, "or someone took you into a helicopter--"

"Not again." One swift move, Mark unhooks Yukhei's arms and wiggles out of his hold. He places both his hands against the kitchen counter and watches Yukhei take a deep breath in. It's because Yukhei wanted the police to investigate how it all happened, but as soon as he got there by car, it turned out Mark had already decided otherwise. He had lied to them.

"People don't teleport to cities just like that," Yukhei says in a grave tone.

"Listen, I'm going to take my pills and I'll call doctor--"

Yukhei interrupts him. "This is not what I'm talking about." He walks around the table. "Mark, what the fuck is going on? Would you mind explaining?"

And just then, Mark realises that his boyfriend believes there's something Mark knows about and doesn't want to tell him.

The eye-contact lasts for an excruciatingly long while. No words are spoken and Mark doesn't even budge, until Yukhei looks away. "Fine."

For Mark, the problem with Yukhei is that the man starts becoming like everyone else Mark met in his life. Another great saviour trying to solve problems Mark doesn't have. It always goes the same way. Once he tells people about his orphaned childhood, their attitude changes in a flicker of an eyelid. They start looking at him like he's some pitiful little thing. They start shielding him from all the evil because they think he's already been through so much of it since young age. They treat him like he's an alien to their normal world of three plus families and single houses with green grass and a barking dog. Mark hates it.

The problem is that at the beginning Yukhei didn't seem like much of a serious guy. He seemed like someone you meet in a bar and he doesn't call you back after sex, someone who opposes using the word boyfriends. And in theory, Mark liked that. Keeping a safe distance.

But now, every day he wakes up feeling guilty of messing up Yukhei's life. Their life. Because he's now an essential part of it. Even if Yukhei doesn't say it explicitly, Mark knows he's a source of trouble. They are both waiting for him to stop, and he can't.

Trying to keep himself in check, telling himself there's nothing weird in what has just occurred the other day and that Yukhei being angry about it is just a phase, he takes a day off. He's home alone. He's doing what he always does: lying on sofas and beds, fixing the shape of the pillow under his head, drinking Valerian, camomile, lavender, standing up, lying back down, counting sheep and cursing when they don't jump over the fence. And just as he's on his way from one sleeping spot to another, carrying a pillow and a blanket, blanket mopping the floor behind his feet, there's a knock on the door.

He's not expecting anyone.

Last minute, combing his hair with fingers, he opens the door and the feeling of deja vu washes through his body all at once, rendering him completely immobile. He knows this face, neck, shoulders, whole body shape. The look in those eyes, he knows it too. He recognises the scar running through one of the eyebrows and the sheen to this silver grey hair. For a moment he can't see the whole picture, only registering more and more details that he knows by heart, that he's seen so many times without ever actually seeing, overwhelmed.

It's the guy from his dreams that doesn't fucking exist.

When he tries to shut the door, he's stopped immediately. The man has already shoved his foot to block the door from being closed, and his hand presses on the wood to open it even wider. He doesn't say a word at first, and that together with the way he moves makes you think of a daydream fathom. Mark almost expects him to be see-through, to disappear as soon as Mark gets a grip on himself, or when he blinks his eyes.

"Boyfriend not home, am I right?" the guy says then, and his voice doesn't match his face. Mark didn't expect he would have a voice to begin with. "I wanted to make sure he wouldn't disturb our conversation."

Now that he can't keep the man out of the flat, Mark starts walking backwards, barefeet against the wooden floorboards. The man closes the door behind himself, one smooth click. He's wearing a leather jacket and jeans. He's tall and slim like a damn model, and there's just no way he's not a creature of Mark's imagination.

And then something Mark doesn't expect happens. The man grabs him by his wrist.

An exclamation jerks out of Mark's mouth. "Why the fuck are you touching me?"

Wrenching out of the grip, he takes a step back and the man takes an immediate step forward. The man's rolling his eyes, eyebrow through which the scar goes moves up and down. "It's such an obvious thing. I'm not going to let you teleport out of here, Mark. It wasn't that easy to locate you. We gotta talk."

First of all, he knows Mark's name. Second, this word, teleporting. It makes Mark's moves even more frantic. "What are you talking about?" He keeps flinging his arms away but the man only catches his other wrist, irritated, quicker and stronger than Mark.

"I think you already know."

"I know you."

The eyebrows lift again. The man is surprised. "How?" His surprise makes him loose hold of Mark, just for a second. The next moment, they both bump into a wall, Mark's back against it.

"I've seen you in my dreams," Mark confesses, and the words make him feel extremely stupid, even though it's all true. The man doesn't seem weirded out hearing that. Surprised yes, but not by the whole concept.

"We've been trying to contact you."

Mark sniggers. "We who?"

And as if it was the most convenient time for introductions, the man goes, "I'm Taeyong. There's more people like you, even though it sounds hard to believe."

"People like what?"

Mark realises he might have unconsciously made it sound like a challenge which the man's ready to accept, sparkle in his eyes.

It comes as a single gesture, single hand, the one that isn't clapped around Mark's arm. He moves it so carelessly as if only trying to wave an insistent fly away, and the very same moment, two rows of books are being thrown off the shelf, the shelves themselves breaking into half, as if a great invisible force has pressed onto them, the sound accompanying the action with a few second delay. Some of the books fall down damaged, pages fly out of them. And then, immediately after, the set of table and chairs, down to the ground, cup of morning coffee, dregs spilling out, plate full of crumbs, breaking. The force jerks out the open door of one of the kitchen units.

Mark gasps. He makes another attempt at getting out of the man's hold, but his body doesn't move, he's all limp and immobile.

"Looks impressive, right?" the man says. "I choose a spot, it self-destructs and bounces off."

Just then something inside Mark seems to overflow the brim, last ditch effort at gaining distance from the threat, out of pure panic. And even though he doesn't make a move, the reality around them moves instead.

In a blink of an eye.

One second in which Mark is paralysed by fear.

Their bodies in the state of weightlessness, then they fall, gravity jerking them down, vision blurred. Before Mark's consciousness can register anything else, he feels the wind, cold, grass between his fingers.

They are no longer in the living room of his and Yukhei's flat. They are... outside.

When Mark leaps to his feet, immediately opting for flight, even though his legs are wobbly and his head spinning, the man lifts his body just as quick and then grasps him. Mark's mind perceives reality as though a sequence of freeze frames, Taeyong's eyes shining ultraviolet, ultramarine, the wrist in tight hold, the crown of the trees lit up from above bright green, wall of white tiles covered with words, train coming up over them, the sound, delayed, like they aren't yet fully in there, not yet stuck in space and time.

Mark lying flat in the grass and watching the contours of his vision stabilise, Taeyong is leaning over him.

"Listen. If I don't tell you that, maybe nobody will." Mark didn't plan that, but now he's all ears, has no other choice but to listen. "You need to control your abilities. There are people who are looking for us and don't want us to be here."

If he keeps on speaking, Mark no longer registers that because he faints and drops to the ground.

When Mark walks into the flat through the open door, all eyes are on him. Kun, Taeil and Yukhei look him up and down, like they don't fully believe he's there. Kun puts the phone down.

What follows is a longer silence in which the three men watch Mark walk from the hall into the kitchen area, through the remains of broken things lying on the floor. He picks up a glass and only then things spin out.

"I was about to call the police," Yukhei announces, his voice drained of all the emotions Kun and Taeil have just witnessed him go through. He's frozen to the spot, the cell phone in his clenched hand, a typical view. You could rarely see him without it.

Hearing the words, Mark stops midway through pouring water into the glass and turns himself towards Yukhei. He's in his pyjamas, grey sweatpants and a black v-neck t-shirt, his socks dirty with grass and soil.

"And why would you do that?" he asks. Some weird irritation seeps into his tone, as if he's just been provoked by an insult.

Both Kun and Taeil look away, suddenly aware of the level of intimacy the conversation may be going for. Taeil starts picking up the books from the floor, like he's a crime scene cleaner.

"Because I thought something fucking happened to you, you asshole?" Yukhei pushes himself off the wall and motions with his hands around the room, veins popping out on his bare arms. "Have you even looked around? You did this?"

"I don't know?" Mark's answer comes with an interrogative rise, which further angers Yukhei.

"Where the hell have you been?" He puts the phone down. "I thought someone fucking kidnapped you."

"You're being ridiculous now."

Yukhei lets out a laughter that's all disbelief and hurt feelings. "Now I'm the crazy one? I come back home and this is what I see. You didn't take your keys nor your phone. It's October and you're in fucking pyjamas."

"I was... I don't know what happened."

Neither Kun nor Taeil lift their eyes towards Mark, as if there's a wall separating them.

"Where did you wake up?"

"In a park?"

"When exactly?"

"I don't know?"

"Don't bullshit me, Mark Lee!"

The way Yukhei raises his voice at Mark makes Kun finally cut in. "Man, don't yell at him."

Yukhei leans back against the wall, rubs his face with his both hands and then runs fingers through his hair. "I'm sorry. I'm going mad." And that's exactly what it feels like. Like he's the odd one out. Unlike everyone else, losing touch with reality. Unable to properly navigate in the situation. Groping for the right decisions but with every single one of them slipping out of his hands, through his fingers like sand.

Having put the books onto the shelf, Taeil looks Mark in the face. He asks, somehow unconvinced, "Are you alright now?"

Mark nods his head. He curls his toes in his dirty socks and the sight makes Yukhei's heart clench.

Sensing the impending awkwardness and that they may no longer be needed in this conversation, Kun goes, "We should be going."

And from that day on, the sleepwalking magically stops.

Without any apparent reason and supposedly to Mark's surprise just as as much as to Yukhei's, it just doesn't happen again. Neither in the following week, nor in two week time, nor in a month. Mark's sleep becomes sound and undisturbed, and only Yukhei keeps staying alert every night. Lying in bed with his arms crossed, he stares into the darkness of their bedroom and listens to Mark's regular breathing which, contrary to what he expected, doesn't make him any calmer.

They don't talk about it.

Neither about Mark's disappearance into another city nor about the broken shelf and kitchen table set. The unspoken questions as well as Mark's evasive replies seem to hung low above their heads every time they're alone and silent. There's a role Yukhei's playing right now, of someone who isn't bothered, even more than that, who's perfectly content with the current situation. He tries to be like his past self, the man Mark has fallen in love with, easy-going, simple, but it seems like he can barely remember himself from back then.

Staring at Mark during their weekend breakfasts, he has to admit that the man looks healthier. After barely a month, the dark circles fade away from around his eyes. His skin tone is no longer grey nor his moves sluggish. And just as for the last couple of months it was difficult to find time and mood for sex, now Mark seems to crave intimacy. He attempts kisses and touches and Yukhei wonders if he's ready for all of that.

Until one Saturday.

It's been a month since sleepwalking magically stopped.

Yukhei's lying on the living room sofa and flipping through his phone with the TV turned on as a background noise, when Mark appears in the room, stepping barefoot into Yukhei's peripheral vision. He sits beside Yukhei and something about his moves and overall appearance betrays the purpose of his arrival. He turns off the TV and leans towards Yukhei.

"Are you feeling okay?" he asks, experimentally touching Yukhei's ear with his nose.

Mark's breaths on Yukhei's skin make him shudder. He puts the phone down. "I am."

There's another pause and it seems like Mark's weighing words on his tongue, possibly something he's been meaning to ask for some time now. Yukhei likes to think so. "Are we... okay?"

"Of course."

Mark relaxes.

Yukhei looks down at where Mark is placing his chin on his shoulder. With just how long they haven't been intimate, Yukhei feels almost embarrassed feeling Mark's weight and the heat of his body. For one thing, Mark didn't use to be the one engaging it. Secondly, it seemed to him like sex was something that happened to them almost accidentally, midway through a banter or as an extension to cuddles. You never knew when it was coming.

Now Yukhei knows perfectly well. Mark straddles him, carefully, and places an open-mouthed kiss against his neck. "What about this? Is this okay?" When he looks into Yukhei's face, Yukhei nods his head a bit noncommittally. Mark changes his tone. "I've missed you," he whispers.

"Keep going."

"I missed this..." Against Yukhei's expectations of which direction the reply could go, Mark rolls his hips against Yukhei's crotch and forces a gasp out of his mouth. He changes his position yet again, and Yukhei watches, as if waiting for his moment to act, to jump in. With how sensitive Mark has always been, rubbing himself against Yukhei's thigh gets him hard almost immediately. He's looking at Yukhei, as if to confirm that he's going the right way, the way they both want it just the same, and his eyes are already clouded. "Did you miss me?" he asks, almost breathless.

And somehow the question, the idea behind it, the ease with which Mark says it, wakes up a thing inside of Yukhei which he has been trying to keep away so laboriously for the last couple months. He's angry. Deep inside where he tries not to visit, he's actually enraged. By the way Mark so nonchalantly leaves him hanging, keeps him away from part of himself. From the details he knows and doesn't find Yukhei important enough to share them with.

While kissing Yukhei's big, red lips, Mark keeps grinding against his thigh, like he's just planning to get himself off against Yukhei's leg. And that's something Yukhei won't allow.

Maybe that's what he's always been like. Maybe he's just never treated Yukhei like an equal.

His mind is muddled with anger the moment he finally makes a move. He grabs at Mark's hair and forces their lips to collide in a long and chaotic kiss, during which Mark chuckles and moans nevertheless, in a blissful way that gets on Yukhei's nerves. He flips Mark over, face against the sofa, pulls his trousers down together with his underwear, one swift motion.

He's vaguely aware of just how much he's venting out his pent-up frustration in the process, but Mark doesn't seem to notice. He lets out a broken moan as Yukhei replaces his fingers with his cock, immediately moving at full speed. They don't say a word, no usual jokes and kisses, and Yukhei doesn't look him in the eyes. When Mark attempts to glance over his shoulder, Yukhei's hand presses his head to the sofa and feels how Mark's muscles tense, thighs tremble, and how in response he clenches around Yukhei.

He keeps thinking of it, replaying the whole scene in his head, at the pizza parlour the very next day.

Even if Mark hasn't realised that, he did and he's feeling like shit about it. He mindlessly sucks at the plastic straw in his glass of orange juice as Kun's lips move producing a monologue Yukhei has long forgotten to listen to. It doesn't matter if Mark sleepwalks or not, Yukhei's angry just the same. Not at Mark. At this whole situation.

It's been a month.

Mark has stopped sleepwalking a month ago.

And Yukhei doesn't know why. Why it started, why it stopped.

"Man," Kun's voice comes as if from far away, the prolonged vowel growing louder as Yukhei enters back the conversation. "Are you serious now?"

"What?

"What the fuck is wrong with you this time around?" Kun shakes his empty glass, cubes of ice making sound. "It's stopped. Why do you look disappointed?"

Yukhei feels hot sweat on his back, hunched over the table, sleeveless t-shirt framing his chest. "I'm not disappointed."

There's a moment of silence during which Kun's staring into his eyes and possibly soul as well.

"Be honest with me now." He leans against the table too, in a way which makes Yukhei want to straighten his back in response. "Some part of you liked it, right? You got used to it. Being Prince Charming, the great saviour on a white horse."

Yukhei doesn't understand at first. Then, as soon as he does, he makes a noise that's outrage and annoyance combined.

"What's wrong with you?" he blurts out, his eyebrows furrowing and nose scrunched up.

Kun shrugs his shoulders. He proceeds to pour himself more coca cola, ice cubs floating up his glass.

"Some people like it. You know, having their partner be completely dependent on them, like they wouldn't survive otherwise. I didn't get it then, but now..."

"Cut it off." Yukhei places his hands on the table, as if he's about to stand up. "I was dead scared when he disappeared last time. You know that."

Kun's expression changes. He can't deny Yukhei being right about that so he just shakes his head unconvinced.

They don't bring it up again.

When he gets back home, still battling with the thoughts in his head, about Mark, their lovemaking and relationship in general, there's someone standing before their front door.

Yukhei freezes immobile one floor below, looking at the silhouette through the staircase railings, shopping bags in one hand, keys in the other. It's a man and he knocks on the door, then presses the handle as if it's something he's used to doing. There's no way Yukhei knows him.

But then he takes a step up, the man turns around and Yukhei realises that he recognises him. The hair, the face, the scar.

**Author's Note:**

> it was first intended to be a series with other characters in it, but it is what it is. that's the ending now.  
i just like humans who have problems, you get me?  
song: МЫ - Дети.


End file.
